


Life’s for the living, I won’t be giving up.

by DropsOfAddiction



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Scott, Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BAMF Stiles, Blow Jobs, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Coming Untouched, Danger, Deputy Derek Hale, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Detective Stiles Stilinski, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Derek Hale, Jealous Derek, Jealous Derek Hale, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Pack, Possessive Derek Hale, Protective Derek Hale, Rimming, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Top Derek, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfAddiction/pseuds/DropsOfAddiction
Summary: Stiles is not prepared for what he sees. Derek ‘Roberto’ (Ok, he made that up) Hale is standing in the middle of his room, on a patchwork rug, wearing just a pair of very tight, black boxers and a Sheriff’s Deputy shirt. It’s hanging wide open, showing off his glorious chest, dark hair trailing down his toned stomach. There are bandages covering his wounds and Stiles is hit with an insane urge to kiss his boo boos better.Stiles coins the term instant-injury-boner.He’s never going to be able to wash and iron his Dad’s uniform ever again, from this moment on.He’s always had a crush on Derek but he’d seemed so inaccessible when he was younger. Even more so than Lydia. He knows in this second, that the feeling he’d had deep in his chest, the first moment he’d laid eyes on Derek in the woods when he was sixteen, it hasn’t ever really gone away.





	Life’s for the living, I won’t be giving up.

**Author's Note:**

> Just borrowing the characters. Please don’t post anywhere else. Hope you enjoy x

It had been two lengthy years since Stiles Stillinski had set foot in his misleadingly peaceful, little home town of Beacon Hills. 

Back then, fresh out of The FBI academy, a higher power had handed him and Scott a purpose that they couldn’t refuse. Stiles had embraced that purpose with arms wide open.

He and Scott had made a difficult but necessary decision and had parted ways with the others. They’d left the moderate sanctuary that Beacon Hills had to offer, because they had run Monroe out of it. They’d cleaned their own house and in turn potentially unleashed her totalitarian cum genocidal ways on wider America.

They had spent their time away travelling where Stiles’ work allowed, seeking out other young supernaturals and helping to educate, shield and prepare them for the inevitable horrors of Monroe and her army. They followed a rough path on where they suspected she might head and so far, they’d managed to see her off at every turn.

Stiles was exhausted trying to juggle everything. Sometimes, they’d just get a call in the middle of the night where Lydia had been hit with a vision and sometimes they’d just follow Scott’s instincts. 

Although once, Scott’s instincts led them to an abandoned Wendy’s on one memorable full moon. Stiles, to this day, suspects he was just sniffing out remnants of beef and cheese.

So Stiles is exhausted but he keeps going. He keeps things light for Scott because he knows what they’re doing is absolutely vital. It’s all they can do, so they will do it. They must do it.

Anything to prevent what happened in Beacon Hills, happening to anyone else... 

Stiles and Lydia’s budding romantic relationship had been over before it started. They had quickly realised their intense bond somehow managed to overshadow any romantic feelings they had for each other, in the end. After just a few days, they had understood that what they had between them was more “I’ll kill someone to keep you safe” rather than “I want to be naked with you on the regular”. 

They’d called it quits the day Stiles had told her he was leaving with Scott and if he’s honest, he thinks they were both a little relieved. 

Malia and Scott had been a little more complicated. Malia had only just found her feet in Beacon Hills and she wanted to settle there, at least for a while. It was a sad situation where Scott fundamentally needed to go and Malia resolutely wanted to stay.

There had been a lot of tears (Scott’s) and a lot of tantrums (Malia’s) when Scott had told everyone he and Stiles would be temporarily leaving and they didn’t know how long they would be gone for.

His Dad had been very upset but he’d said he’d understood, the same as Melissa. This was something that Scott and Stiles were uniquely equipped to do.

Stiles remembered the entire gang gathered outside Melissa’s house as he and Scott finished loading the Jeep on that overcast day.

Melissa and his Dad had given them cash and hugged them until Stiles had to tap out for breath and Scott had cried again. 

Lydia had kissed them both on the cheek and given them a burner phone she’d programmed with a series of leads and names she’d been researching. It was a place to start. Lydia was going to remain in Beacon Hills to help protect it. She would be their research centre effectively.

Malia had refused to come to say goodbye at all but Stiles swears he saw a flash of blue eyes from the old Hawthorne bush at the end of the garden. 

And then there had been Derek. He’d been the only one who had stayed silent that day, looking awkward and out of place as usual. He’d stood there same as always, arms crossed, heavy brow furrowed, shuffling from foot to foot. His default personality setting was stoic and irate at best and boy did he let it show. 

Scott had hugged Derek and he’d softened minutely, barely noticeable, giving the younger alpha an awkward pat on the back.

Stiles had approached him, going in for a hug.

Derek had stared Stiles down, as if daring him to make this goodbye any longer than it needed to be until Stiles had rolled his eyes and got in the jeep, muttering things about angry eyebrows. Derek’s lip had twitched slightly and Stiles could swear he’d seen the beginning of a smile before he’d looked away.

Derek had probably left Beacon Hills as soon as the sun went down that day. Stiles hadn’t bothered to ask him about his plans and he hadn’t heard from him since. Derek had been itching to leave since the minute Stiles had convinced him to come back and help fight Monroe. He’d been especially cold with Stiles since he’d been back.

And then, Stiles didn’t think all that much about Derek or anyone else really. Stiles’ life became two packed years filled with drama, violence and chaos, even more so than before. They’d found so many young people like Scott, Malia, even like Lydia who were struggling with their abilities. 

Occasionally, he and Scott needed some extra help and Theo and Liam would show up when they called them for backup. They based in Beacon Hills but came when they were needed.

Stiles and Scott travelled state to state, searching and finding kids, helping them control their changes and best of all, giving them a community to reach out to if Monroe came knocking. 

Stiles was also able to dispose of many of Monroe’s followers through his work. They were wanted on various criminal charges, so it wasn’t that hard to locate them and flag them to local law enforcement.

Stiles felt as though their mission was coming to a head. Monroe couldn’t have many allies left. Stiles was sure he and Scott had spoken to almost every supernatural in America at this point. 

Stiles’ main aim now was to finish what they started and bring Monroe in.

Well, that was his main aim, until two days ago, when Stiles’ focus had changed and his world had imploded. He and Scott were staying the night in a remote village in Puerto Escondido, Mexico, after hearing about a beast that took villagers from their huts at night. 

It turned out it had been a particularly resourceful man eating jaguar. Scott hadn’t taken any pleasure in putting it down, but it needed to be done. The villagers still thought they were hero’s for saving them. They were settling for the night in a tent with full belly’s when Stiles’ phone had rang.

It said Lydia on the display screen.

“Stiles. It’s Monroe,” Lydia didn’t waste time with pleasantries when he picked up. She sounded out of breath.

“Where?” Stiles bit out, throwing his notebook at Scott from across the tent to get him to come over and listen. 

This is what they’d been waiting for.

All this planning for war, all this doomsday preparation could be over if they could just get to Monroe.

They could cut off the head of the snake and it wouldn’t fix things immediately, but it would certainly be the beginning to an end.

“Stiles... She... I’m sorry, I wasn’t here. I was tracking her and I had a vision but I lost her and She must have circled back here... I took Theo and Liam with me because I was so sure. Stiles... I’m so sorry. It’s your Dad...” Lydia chokes.

And Stiles’ world went black.

The panic attack that hit him that evening had been the worst he’d ever experienced. 

Scott had carried him to the local village doctor and they’d sedated him with a tranquilliser they kept for emergencies. When he was unconscious, thankfully, he started breathing normally.

When he came to, Scott was sitting by the cot in the little hut with six villagers staring at him, concern on their faces. He shot bolt upright straight in the bed, the phone call rushing back to him.

Scott put his hands out to attempt to calm him. He looked ashen.

“He’s alive Stiles, please, just listen to me. She shot him but he’s in surgery... I rang Mom but she didn’t pick up. Lydia says to just get back, fast. Also... She’s dead Stiles. Monroe. It’s over,” Scott pulled Stiles to him and held him as he sobbed.

Stiles was allowing himself thirty seconds of his best friend’s comfort before throwing the covers off. 

He knew what he needed to do.

He needed to go home.

——————

When Stiles and Scott walked into the Beacon Hills memorial hospital he saw Melissa at the reception desk looking over some files.

She burst into tears when she saw them and grabbed them both into a bone crushing hug. They’d shared nothing but phone calls for the entire time they’d been away and having someone other than Scott hug him felt very strange to Stiles. 

He relaxed after a second and melted into her. She stroked both their heads until finally letting them go.

“You both look so much older,” she tutted, stroking Scott’s hair out of his eyes.

“We are. We are nearly exactly two years older. We left two years ago,” Scott smiles at his Mom.

“Don’t be a smart ass,” Melissa replies, wiping her tears.

“My Dad...” Stiles can barely focus on pleasantries needing to see the Sheriff in the flesh before he can finally breathe normally.

“Oh honey, of course, I’m sorry. He’s out of surgery. We think he’s going to be OK,” she turns straight away and he and Scott follow her to a room on the second floor. 

She stops outside.

“I’ll leave you alone for ten minutes and then I’ll come back and check on you. He’s on a lot of painkillers and he’s not been awake much yet, but he will be OK Stiles. Scott you can come back with me in a little while,” Melissa grabs her son by the arm.

“Hey! No, Mom, I’m not leaving him, I’ll be quiet but I don’t want him to be alone in there,” Scott’s voice is indignant and he stares at his Mom in disbelief.

“Honey, I’ll explain in a minute but he won’t be alone I promise. It’s not going to be good for you to go in there right now,” She tugs on Scott’s arm but he’s having none of it.

Stiles zones them both out and opens the door and steps inside. He sees a flash of movement and he hears a warning, lethal, low growling. 

Something dark is crouched in front of his Dad’s bed in the shadows and Stiles has to squint to see.

Scott pushes Stiles behind him shaking his Mom off and crouches, eyes glowing red but the stranger still doesn’t back down.

Stiles recognises those unmistakeable, grey, blue eyes but then they turn to brilliant red. The interloper stands up and sniffs the air. He takes a step out into the light and Scott relaxes.

Stiles’ eyes widen in surprise. The last person he’d been expecting to see here was a sleep rumpled, stubbly Derek Hale.

—————————

When Derek realised Stiles and Scott were the intruders he calmed down immediately. He’d been sitting at the Sheriff’s bedside since he’d come out of surgery, not wanting to leave him unprotected. He already felt guilty enough for not getting there fast enough when Monroe had ambushed the Sheriff’s house.

“Derek?” Stiles sounded confused and Derek couldn’t blame him really. He probably didn’t think Derek would even be in the Country, let alone in Beacon Hills.

“Stiles. Scott.” Derek nods.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles sounds exhausted. Derek notices dark circles under his eyes and catalogues a few other changes.

Stiles has filled out. He’s no longer that long limbed eighteen year old, but he has lean muscle, evident under the T-shirt he’s wearing. He’s tall, easily the same height as Derek now and he can see tanned skin on his arms. His hair is slightly longer, still dark brown but neat and his eyes... Derek observes, the eyes are the same. Deep molten whisky, golden and they’re boring into his right now, searching for answers.

Derek just shrugs.

“I was just waiting for someone else to get here so he wouldn’t be alone,” Derek replies and hates the way it makes Stiles wince. 

He doesn’t want to make him feel guilty for not being around. 

Stiles was doing amazing work, juggling his job and the mission he’s been doing with Scott. He’d helped save so many people and he’s had to sacrifice things for that. 

He’d almost had to sacrifice his Dad for that.

“Ok... well you can go, if you need?” Stiles just looks very confused.

“Stiles honey... Derek was actually there...” Melissa begins but Derek cuts her off.

“Actually Melissa, I was just on my way home for a shower,” Derek says quickly, shaking his head at her.

Stiles looks him over, for the first time noticing his crumpled state and bloody T-shirt and jeans. Jeans that still fit in a way that Stiles will always find it hard to ignore.

Derek walks past him and Stiles notices he gives a little barely audible sniff as he brushes by. 

Stiles spares a second to try to remember the last time he’d had a shower himself. It had been in the village Cenote but that had been before dinner, over twenty two hours previous. 

He finds himself hoping he isn’t offending Derek’s sensitive nose.

The thought is cut short when he sees his Dad slowly blinking his eyes open.

Everyone clears out and he gets to gently hug his Dad and regale him with stories for the next few hours. His dad doesn’t say much, still groggy but strokes his hand. 

Theo shows up just when his Dad falls asleep again and tells Stiles that Lydia has arranged shifts for them all to keep an eye on the Sheriff, just in case any of Monroe’s followers come back. She doesn’t think it’s likely but she wants to protect him just in case.

Stiles knows she is feeling guilty for whatever reason but he can’t alleviate her of that until he hears the full story.

Stiles decides he’d better head out and maybe the Monroe story is best left for tomorrow, when he’s had some sleep. His head is pounding but he can breathe easier knowing his Dad will pull through. He can’t lose him as well as his Mom. 

Scott’s waited for him and he drives the jeep so Stiles doesn’t have to. He drops him off at his Dad’s house and Stiles notices the porch light on. 

He tries the old fake rock and genius, the spare key is still there. Good, because he didn’t particularly feel like scaling the tree outside his bedroom window in his exhausted state.

He walks into the kitchen and dumps his rucksack on the table. He opens the fridge and notices many differences from when he left. It’s filled with fresh veg and leftover something or another in an oven dish. There’s a tub of strawberries that leaves Stiles even more perplexed. His dad can’t cook and if he did, he most definitely wouldn't be using all this veg. 

That’s when he notices a saran wrapped plate with a post it on the top of it.

Written in capitals, it says “STILES.”

Stiles shrugs, figuring if someone was trying to kill him they’d be less obvious than this, microwaves it and scarfs it down. It’s delicious. Creamy Mash potatoes and casserole. Real comfort food. 

He walks upstairs after he finishes eating and he frowns when he passes the door to the spare room. Its slightly ajar, lamp on.

He pokes his head in and it’s obvious someone’s been staying in here and recently too.

The bed is made but rumpled, like someone’s been sitting on it and a discarded, dog eared book is on the bedside table. There are a few pictures dotted around the wall by the bed. There’s a few of nature trails, a couple of Theo and Malia. There’s one of Derek and his Dad wearing football jerseys.

Stiles is baffled until he sees a leather jacket slung over a desk chair. Then he’s just plain surprised. Derek Hale not only stayed in Beacon Hills but he apparently lives with Stiles’ Dad. 

How has his father failed to mention this? 

Stiles head throbs and he decides that’s another question for tomorrow. He goes into his old room and notices a bottle of water and Tylenol on his bedside table. 

Derek’s around somewhere but he’s clearly giving him space to process being home, for whatever reason.

Stiles chews two tablets down and swigs the water, kicking his boots off. He flops face down on his bed. 

He sees a shadow cross his doorway, blocking the light from the spare room out of the corner of his eye.

“Thanks creeper wolf,” he mutters into his pillow. 

His answer is someone throwing a blanket on top of him and quietly shutting his door. 

He falls fast asleep before the footsteps reach the other side of the hallway.

—————————-

Stiles wakes the next morning to the smell of bacon. His mouth tastes like trash and he is offending his own sense of smell so he decides a shower won’t be a bad idea. By the time he’s scrubbed himself all over (a working hot shower is an absolute luxury compared to what he’s been using lately) brushes his teeth and put on some clean clothes, it’s nearly 8am. 

He plods sleepily down into the kitchen and isn’t surprised to see Derek sitting there reading a newspaper and drinking out of a coffee mug that has a picture of Pikachu on it. 

It’s Stiles’ mug.

Derek looks up shiftily when he enters, even though he’d have heard him coming.

Stiles fills himself a large cup of coffee from the pot and sits down opposite him.

Stiles fully takes a minute to look at Derek. He looks so different to when he saw him last. 

He’s neatly shaven, short dark stubble on his jaw. His dark hair looks soft and is a little longer than before. 

The biggest difference is that Derek doesn’t look like he’s constantly gritting his teeth together in an effort to get through every single social interaction.

Stiles means to ask him what he’s doing here. He means to ask him why he’s staying in the spare room and drinking out of Stiles’ favourite Pikachu mug. But what comes out has him cringing internally.

“You look great Der,” he offers.

Derek obviously had been expecting something else too and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

Stiles thinks some things never change.

“You too Stiles...” Derek says, smiling softly, eyes dragging over him. 

Stiles feels warm all over.

Derek lifts a napkin and pushes a plate filled with pancakes and bacon toward him.

Stiles grabs it with both hands and forgoes the fork, shoving bits of pancake into his mouth. He looks up with a giant mouthful. 

Derek’s still staring at him. He swallows.

“So... thanks for breakfast. Do you live here then?” Stiles figures they may as well just get straight to it.

Derek laughs and Stiles looks at him like he’s seen the Chupacabra. It’s blinding seeing him smile.

“What’s funny?” Stiles smiles back at him. 

It’s infectious apparently.

“Nothing... I just forgot how your brain works is all...” Derek says, taking another swig of his coffee, “and yes. I guess I live here. That ok?”

Stiles shrugs non-commitedly.

“Sure. It’s Dad’s house. I haven’t lived here in two years. Weren’t you here when Monroe showed up?” Stiles asks and regrets his bluntness when Derek winces and hangs his head.

Derek’s laughter- that’s foreign to him. Derek’s self deprecation- ah, hello darkness my old friend.

“I was getting dinner. We were going to have Chinese food, beers and watch the game. I caught her scent on my way back. I’d never forget it. I ran but she was in the house. I guess he thought it was me coming back and he walked out into the hallway. I’m really sorry Stiles,” Derek won’t look at him.

“Hey, Der it’s fine. It’s a good job you were coming back, if he’d been staying on his own who knows what she would have done,” Stiles gets up and takes the seat next to Derek.

“And then what? You brooded at her until the gang arrived?” Stiles nods for him to continue, trying to make light of the situation.

Derek snaps his eyes up and Stiles jumps back when he sees they’re blazing, crimson.

“No...” he growls, “she shot me too. Wolfsbane. I was down, but she walked back up to John. I mean, The Sheriff... your Dad.”

Stiles is staring now, open mouthed and he doesn’t speak. He waits for Derek to finish.

“I didn’t have a choice. I changed, slipped into full wolf. It was easier to manage the pain and ignore the poison. I ripped her throat out Stiles. I killed her right on your doorstep because she was in ‘my’ house, trying to kill ‘my’ friend. And I’d do it again,” Derek says defiantly through fangs, wanting Stiles’ anger, wanting him to accuse him of being inhuman. 

To Stiles, he looks much younger than his twenty six years in that moment.

Stiles puts his hand on Derek’s jean clad leg, and it reminds Stiles of when the Alphas forced Derek to kill Boyd. Derek has had so much suffering and pain in his life. To hear him refer to anything at all as ‘his’ is kind of precious, especially as it’s his Dad.

Stiles stares him straight in his eyes, whisky brown meeting alpha red. He squeezes his knee and he says one word.

“Good.”

———————

When Stiles makes his way into the hospital later that morning, Derek is sticking close to him. The car journey was a little stilted, both of them sitting quietly. Stiles observed Derek looked noticeably lighter after his earlier confession.

“Hey Daddio, how you feeling today?” Stiles breezes into the room, grapes in hand.

Derek walks in behind him, shuts the door and sits in the chair beside the bed.

“Hey you two. You ok Son, how are you feeling today?” John mumbles trying to sit up.

Stiles rushes to help him and realises the second part of his Dad’s sentence isn’t aimed at him, but at Derek.

“Ok Sir,” Derek nods.

“I’ve told you, you need to call me John. Honestly, you’re ok? Because Melissa said she was burning wolfsbane out of you for nearly three hours yesterday evening. She said you kept shifting and you couldn’t heal. She also said you still aren’t healed, it will probably take about a week due to the rare form of wolfsbane. Then you spent the next eight hours last night in that chair refusing to move until Stiles arrived?” The Sheriff tells him.

Derek actually looks embarrassed.

Stiles looks between his Dad and Derek wondering what the hell is going on.

“Sir, I was feeling a little.... er... protective. I’m fine now. I did warn you about the pack thing when you said I could move in. I’m fine, I swear,” Derek shrugs trying to appear casual as Stiles takes the chair next to him. 

Derek sniffs the air near Stiles again. Sheriff Stillinski looks between them back and forth.

“Hmm I can see that,” the Sheriff smirks and Stiles thinks he might be missing a joke. “Tell me about Monroe.”

So Stiles does, Derek filling in the gaps from the actual attack. Stiles had spoken to Lydia on the phone this morning and she’d told him about how her, Theo and Liam managed to capture Monroes last minion. He’d been the distraction to get them out of Beacon Hills so Monroe could get to the Sheriff. 

When he realised Monroe was dead, the poor kid, another Chimera, had spilled his guts. 

Monroe had known Stiles and Scott had been close to finding her. Every time she tried to recruit new followers, people where she went, they already knew about her. She couldn’t get traction and Stiles, through his job had become a real thorn in her side. 

While Stiles was with Scott, he’d basically been untouchable.

So she’d decided to hurt him the only way she knew how, through his Dad. She just hadn’t accounted on the unexpected house guest of an angry 200lb of muscly, Alpha werewolf.

When they’ve finished, Stiles’ Dad looks completely exhausted again.

“So it’s over? You can come home?” The Sheriff looks at Stiles with hope in his eyes.

“Sure. Scotts probably going to keep doing his thing but I’m a bit over life on the road. I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I think my boss was getting a little fed up with me travelling so much lately. I solved a few high profile cases so he gave me a lot of breathing room with time off in the beginning but I’ve been thinking about a change of pace... how would you feel about me being a Detective in Sunrise county PD? It’s only a half hours drive and I could commute! Or! I heard Parish has shacked up with Malia and he’s teaching at the college now. Scott’s totally unimpressed but I think he kind of expected it... I could be your new deputy!” Stiles grins at him and he feels Derek tense beside him.

He looks at Derek questioningly.

“Didn’t you tell him?” Stiles’ Dad says to Derek.

“I didn’t really know where to start Sir. I mean, John,” Derek shrugs again and the Sheriff rolls his eyes.

Stiles’ phone takes that second to ping and it’s Scott asking him to meet with Lydia for lunch. His Dad’s eyes are dropping shut anyway.

“I have to go out for a bit. We’re going to shelve this conversation and pick up later Mister,” Stiles addresses Derek, who has slumped in the chair. Derek closes his eyes in answer and puts a cushion behind his head.

“That’s not a good defence mechanism you know...” Stiles says to him.

Derek doesn’t respond or open his eyes until Stiles is nearly out the door.

“Stiles?” 

“Yeah?”

“What do you want for dinner?”

Silence...

“Chinese and beers?” Stiles doesn’t turn around.

“I think I can manage that. Try not to get shot at lunch then,” Derek replies dryly.

I’ll be here. Eating bland pudding cups. You know, if either of you care,” The Sheriff says dryly.

Stiles goes off to lunch with a dopey smile on his face. 

——————— 

By the time Stiles is heading home it’s nearing about 3pm. He lets himself into the house still using the spare key and listens for Derek.

He can hear water shutting off and Derek must be getting out of the shower. He makes them both an iced tea and heads upstairs to ask Derek what he and his Dad meant in the hospital.

He kicks the door open to the spare room.

“So sour-wolf, you gonna fill me in?...” and he drops one of the glasses, liquid spilling everywhere.

He is not prepared for what he sees. Derek Roberto (Ok, he made that up) Hale is standing in the middle of his room, on a patchwork rug wearing just a pair of very tight black boxers and a Sheriff’s Deputy shirt. It’s hanging wide open, showing off his glorious chest, dark hair trailing down his toned stomach. There are bandages covering his bullet wounds and Stiles is hit with an insane urge to kiss his boo boos better.

Stiles coins the term instant-injury-boner. He’s never going to be able to wash and iron his Dad’s uniform ever again, from this moment on.

He’d always had a crush on Derek but he’d seemed so inaccessible when he was younger. Even more so than Lydia. He knows in this second, that the feeling he’d had deep in his chest, the first moment he’d laid eyes on Derek in the woods when he was sixteen, it hasn’t ever really gone away.

“Can I help you?” Derek grumpily asks him, not moving to get dressed or cover up.

Stiles’ brain comes back online and he drags his eyes from Derek’s crotch to his beautifully angry face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I should have knocked. I didn’t think,” Stiles turns his back on him.

“Did you bring that for me?” Derek asks into his ear and Stiles jumps at how silently he crept up on him.

“Well the one thats all over your floor is yours,” Stiles can do grumpy too.

Derek leans over him and plucks the remaining glass out of his hand.

“Ok, well, good talk, you’re a deputy then. That’s just excellent, it looks really good on you. I mean that’s really good for you. Right I’m off, have a good shift, buh bye”.

Stiles practically runs into his own room. He gets into bed and makes himself into a human burrito with his duvet, because this situation seems to call for it.

He hears footsteps and Derek yanks the duvet off him. He’s wrapped so tightly he falls off the bed. Derek looks down at him and thank the heavens he’s fully dressed now.

Although from Stiles’ angle on the floor, the stupidly tight deputy pants might just be worse than the boxers.

“I have to go into work for a few hours. I’d taken a few days leave to help look after your Dad when he comes out but they’re short with both of us off. I’ll get takeout on the way home like I said. I’ll be back about 9pm. Wait up?” Derek sounds oddly vulnerable.

“Yeah definitely,” Stiles nods enthusiastically.

He uses the next few Derek free hours to apply for the Detective position in Sunrise County PD and he takes it as a positive that he gets an email back straight away, asking him for an interview. 

He will have a good reference too, so he’s feeling pretty positive.

He unpacks his bag, then his jeep and he does a few loads of washing, blasting Taylor Swifts’ ‘Lover’ and singing along. He has a shower then a nap. He then counteracts his sleepiness with three cups of coffee, in quick succession.

He’s feeling freaking ace by the time he hears a key in the lock. He bounds down the stairs to meet Derek who looks at him alarmed when he snatches the bags off him.

“Oh my god. I haven’t had Chinese food in two years, no joke. You are a god. I’ll unpack this, get ya Jimmy jams on,” he shouts, jogging into the kitchen with the bags.

“How much coffee have you had?” Derek shouts back, heading up the stairs nonetheless.

“Only three cups!” Stiles yells back. 

By the time he’s unpacked the containers and popped two beers, Derek is coming into the kitchen in sweatpants and a vest. He’s wearing Superman socks and for some reason, Stiles thinks it’s adorable.

They sit on the couch, put on a rerun of friends and Derek automatically takes the left side and Stiles sees its a familiar habit to him.

They open the cartons and for some reason, it’s not even a tiny bit awkward.  
Derek “angry at life” Hale is living in his house. He’s good friends with his Dad and he’s comfortable sharing Chinese on the sofa, watching TV with him and it’s not even a little bit weird.

Stiles passes him the carton with lemon chicken in.

“No thanks,” Derek shakes his head, wrinkles his nose and takes a swig of beer.

“It’s amazing, my absolute favourite how can you not like this lemony goodness? Why’d you even buy it if you don’t like it?” Stiles says furrowing his brow and shovelling some in his mouth at the same time.

Derek looks at him like he’s been caught out.

Stiles brilliant brain is even more efficient with caffeine.

“You... oh... you bought it for me? You remembered it was my favourite?” Stiles says, mouth full.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s very unattractive,” Derek quips and Stiles laughs happily.

He’s always enjoyed Derek’s sharp sarcasm and it’s even better when he smiles after using it.

“Lies,” Stiles says softly and points the chopsticks accusingly at him.

Derek looks away and takes another swig of beer.

There’s a tension there that wasn’t there before and they finish their food mostly in silence. Derek clears up and lingers in the doorway.

“I’m going to go up to bed then. Your Dad’s allowed out in the morning and I said we’d pick him up early,” he says.

“Ok...” Stiles doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be saying or doing here.

“Ok... night then Stiles...”

The moment drags, neither of them moving.

“Goodnight then Der,” Stiles can’t take it any longer. 

Stiles listens all the way until Derek’s door clicks shut and then he decides to head up himself.

Stiles tries to relax but the moon is bright and he settles in for a long night.

————————

Stiles’ clock reads 2am, he’s still awake and suddenly the coffee is coming back to bite him in the ass. The events of the past few days start catching up with him and he feels his heart start racing.

Why’s Derek here? Why did his Dad get shot? What if Sunrise PD doesn’t want him and now Monroes dead, what will he do? He should just leave Derek and his Dad here, they seem to be doing OK... Why does it feel so easy being around Derek?

Before he realises what’s happening, he’s hyperventilating and he hears the door to his room crash open.

A worried and sleepy looking Derek is cradling his face with large hands, stroking him and talking to him softly but he’s too worked up to hear him.

He starts coming down a few minutes later when he realises that Derek’s answering his questions and wanting to know the answers seems to outweigh his need to suffocate himself. 

He’s been talking out loud, biting out his questions and he hadn’t even realised it.

“I’m here because I had no where to go and I didn’t want to leave again Stiles. I wanted to stay for Malia and your Dad said I could have the spare room. He was always good to me, especially after the fire. It’s been nice, living with someone again. Taking care of each other. Family. Why did he get shot? Because the world’s a piece of shit and it takes things from you, but you’re so good, it let you keep him. You’re lucky. I’m lucky. You’ll get that job because you’re amazing. They’d be lucky to have you. Why would you leave again? I’m not you, he needs you Stiles... I... I need you. Why’s it easy being around me? I have no idea. There’s no one that makes me feel like you. Sometimes, some things are just easy. Things don’t always have to be complicated. Don’t overthink it, you might give yourself a panic attack,” Derek laughs softly and Stiles stares at his little laugh lines around his eyes, lit up in the moonlight. 

He’s never noticed them before. Maybe Derek didn’t have them before.

Derek stops stroking him when he realises Stiles is listening to him intently and not gasping for breath. Derek doesn’t let go of his face.

Derek licks his lips and Stiles’ eyes are drawn like a magnet to the movement, helpless.

“Don’t overthink it?” Stiles whispers, tilting his head in question.

His answer is Derek sealing his lips to his and it’s exactly what he’d imagined and everything else in between. 

It’s hard and claiming and it feels like a declaration from Derek.

Derek pulls back and he looks a little bit dazed.

“Oh shit,” Derek says.

“Yep, yep, yep, hell yes,” Stiles nods and scrambles forward, kissing Derek again, opening up to him. 

Derek licks into his mouth and pulls him onto his lap. Derek grunts when Stiles straddles his thighs. 

Stiles feels far too aware they’ve both been in bed and they only have boxer shorts separating them.

He rolls his ass down, testing and he’s met with a hard, large bulge. He’s rewarded with Derek growling and grabbing his hips to still him.

Stiles stops, pulls back slightly and looks Derek in the eyes.

“I know you said don’t overthink this but I think maybe you need to hear this before anything else happens... I’ve liked you a lot. For a long time. Longer than I knew I think. I want this. Not just for tonight. I want you here. I like you here. I especially like you in my bed,” Stiles tells him, holding onto his shoulders.

Derek buries his face in Stiles’ neck and whines, inhaling deeply, barely moving. 

He puts his teeth, which feel a tiny bit too sharp to be human, against Stiles’ throat, just resting. 

Then he licks him in a broad stripe up his neck.

“Oh fuck, I really need you to fuck me,” Stiles moans like he’s dying.

It’s like a switch flips and Derek comes to life at that statement. 

He also gets very verbal, something which he’s never been during sex. But he’s never had sex with someone he’s trusted. Someone he loves. 

He throws Stiles down on the bed and smiles when he giggles. Derek licks up his stomach, revelling in the way that as soon as he touches him, he can’t talk. He buries his face in the dark hair under Stiles’ belly button and inhales him deeply.

He pulls down Stiles’ boxers and is faced with a long, hard cut dick. It’s perfect and Derek wraps his hand around it and begins to talk.

“When you left, I was devastated. I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you but you were young. You were headstrong, smart, clumsy but cute and god I wanted you Stiles. I was happy when you finally got together with Malia, then even happier when you found Lydia because I was messed up. I couldn’t give you what you wanted then,” he licks a long line up Stiles’ dick, runs his tongue around the head and continues to stroke him.

Stiles fists his hands in his own hair and stares down at Derek like he can’t believe he’s got so lucky. 

Derek flips him onto his front, trapping Stiles’ dick against the mattress. He palms each of Stiles’ cheeks in his hands and squeezes hard.

“I was happy but so fucking jealous. Did you know, I’d change into a wolf and I’d sit outside the woods opposite your window and just whine, pathetically. You weren’t mine and I wouldn’t do anything to make you be mine, but I wanted it. Fuck, I wanted it so bad.” 

When Derek starts talking again, he shoves Stiles’ knee up and out with his leg and this time, he licks a hot wet stripe over Stiles’ exposed hole.

“Holy fuck,” Stiles cries into his pillow. 

But apparently Derek’s not done. He’s slightly quieter but considerably growlier when he starts talking again, massaging a spit slick finger against him, begging for entrance.

“You taste so good right now... When you left, I couldn’t hug you goodbye because I was so scared I was going to ask you to stay and that wouldn’t have been fair. I think your Dad knew. He asked me to stay and help him out, so I told myself I would for a few days, but being here, around your scent was addictive. I laid in this bed so many times and wondered if you were safe. I laid in this bed and fucked my hand, with my face in your pillow, pretending you were here...” 

“Oh my god, Derek, please,” Stiles has tears in his eyes. 

He’s not sure if it’s over Derek’s declarations or if it’s because he’s about to dig to China using just his cock.

“And then, just like that, you’re back... and you smelt so fucking good in the hospital, I wanted to lick you everywhere,” Derek licks his hole again, this time breaching him with his tongue and finger at the same time.

Stiles feels Derek’s spit drip down his ass onto his balls and he has to bite his lip hard, so he doesn’t come.

Derek finger fucks him slowly and deep, just one finger, until Stiles begs for another, then another. 

“You’re so goddamn tight,” Derek groans, like he’s not the one torturing stiles.

“Well duh, I’ve never done this before,” Stiles gasps when Derek brings his tongue back to lick into him between his fingers. 

Derek stops licking him abruptly.

“No, no, bad wolf, no stopping. I’ve had sex before I swear,” Stiles says trying to sit up, but Derek’s hand, firm on his lower back, prevents it.

Derek’s mouth is literally on his ass, so when he growls possessively, Stiles feels it deep inside him. His dick leaks pre-come into his sheets.

“Oh fuck me, I mean with girls I have... but never... ahhh... I’ve never, Oh my god, why are you stopping?”

Derek likes this admission far more than he has any right too. 

Knowing he will be the first person to fuck Stiles, the first person he’s let see him spread out like this, it’s making his wolf shake with pleasure and the need to claim him.

Derek pulls his own boxers down to his thighs and he rubs the head of his thick, uncut dick across Stiles’ glistening pink hole.

They both groan and Derek’s patience has run its course. Derek flips Stiles over onto his back, so he doesn’t lose control. 

It’s actually worse seeing him laid out.

Stiles’ pupils are blown, his hair is sticking up every which way and his bottom lip is swollen and red like he’s been biting it.

Stiles’ dick is straining up his stomach and Derek brushes it with his own. They’re both shaking.

Derek takes them both in his hand and they end up fucking against each other, rutting, desperate, foreheads pressed together.

It’s intimate and it’s cracking Derek wide open.

He knows he’s going to come when Stiles grabs him by the ass and presses him against him harder.

Stiles ghosts his hand down Derek’s crack and holds him open to the night, digging his fingers hard into his ass cheeks.

Derek comes with a shout and he pumps his own dick, covering Stiles’ dick and stomach with come and he just catches himself before he collapses on him. 

Stiles throws his head back and comes, without a hand on him and it’s beautiful to watch.

Derek lays down next to him and strokes a hand over his chest, not believing he gets to have this. Stiles is unbelievably quiet, to the point where Derek is wondering if he should leave.

He goes to get up and Stiles grabs his hand and rolls on his side to face him.

“Ok, I’m just going to say it. I’m thinking it, so whatever. Sometimes it’s easy right? I’m definitely in love with you. I love you...” Stiles says it like he’s asking him to pick up a tin of beans from the shop. 

Matter of fact. It is what it is. Fact.

Dereks’ stunned. It’s been a very long time since he’s heard those words directed at him. 

“Der... you don’t have to say anything, I just thought I’d tell you. I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” Stiles continues and scooches closer to him in the bed, kissing him softly.

“I knew...” Derek says softly, like a confession.

“Huh? How?” Stiles is bewildered.

“Well, the Wolf knew. You smell like home. You always have. I’ve been in love with you from the minute I knew you existed. I won’t be able to walk away from this...I don’t think I can lose anyone else,” Derek sounds so fragile. Stiles wants to keep him forever and spend his life putting him back together again.

Stiles sits up and straddles Derek’s legs.

“Derek, I’m not just saying this. You know me. I don’t lie. Not to you. Listen to my heart. I want this. I want you. For as long as I get to have you,” and he takes Derek’s softening dick in his sinfully hot mouth.

For someone who’s never given a blow job before, Stiles could go pro. 

Derek’s hard again so fast he feels a bit dizzy and Stiles is sucking down his cock like it’s his favourite lolly pop.

Derek threads his hands into Stiles’ hair and Stiles hums around his head.

“Yes, Stiles, please, you’re so good,” Derek’s trying not to fuck his mouth, but his hips are disobeying him and he’s thrusting softly against the back of Stiles’’ throat.

Stiles gags a little and Derek goes to pull back but then Stiles swallows around him. Dereks dick is down his throat.

Stiles’ eyes water and he groans and Derek needs to get out or he’s going to come. He can feel his balls tightening and when he says Stiles’ name this time, it’s choked.

Stiles pulls off with a satisfied pop and grabs lube from his bedside drawer. He slicks Derek’s dick and before Derek’s brain comes back on line, Stiles is sitting down against his cock.

Derek holds him open and spares a thought that it’s not going to be enough prep before Stiles pushes down against him. 

He’s being so careful to put his hands around Derek’s bullet wounds. In truth, Derek hasn’t felt them since the minute his lips touched Stiles’.

“Stiles wait, I think we need more...” Derek grunts but Stiles is determined and the head of Derek’s dick breaches him. 

Derek thanks the gods that he was so thorough with eating him out. He can feel he’s still spit slick.

Inch by torturous inch, Stiles sits back on him until he’s fully seated and he gives an experimental roll of his hips.

Derek throws his head back against the headboard, gripping Stiles’ hips and gritting his teeth together. 

Stiles is so tight, he can feel him clenching around his dick, testing the feeling. Derek is worried he’s going to come immediately.

Stiles starts to move and he rides him slowly, until they’re both edging, coming back from it, edging again and every time Derek thinks he’s going to come, Stiles slows down and just rocks against him gently.

Stiles grins down at him the third time he does it and Derek should have known. Stiles isn’t as innocent as he’s made out, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Derek uses his strength to sit up so his back is against the headboard, forcing his dick deeper into Stiles, who moans with the movement. 

They’re face to face now and it’s exactly as Derek wants it.

Stiles holds onto his shoulders and grinds his ass down, seeking the friction and rhythm he’d built up earlier.

Derek plants his feet and the next time Stiles rides him to the point where he wants to come, he thrusts up into him hard and tugs his hair.

The sound Stiles makes, Derek might need to record it and play it for himself, over and over. 

Stiles cries out a guttural moan, stuck somewhere between pleasure and pain and so Derek fucks up into him again and again.

Stiles holds on and Derek kisses him when he takes his dick in his hand. He jacks him hard, pumping him and Stiles’ eyes fly open. 

This time Stiles comes first, and he doesn’t disappoint. 

His come hits Derek in the chin and his ass is like a vice, clenched down on Dereks cock. 

Derek wolfs out.

He comes on a shout, with Stiles’ perfect hole gripping him, milking his orgasm out of him.

They both manage to catch their breath but Stiles doesn’t bother to get off Derek and Derek doesn’t make to move him.

He slumps against Derek’s front and Derek strokes his back until he thinks he’s fallen asleep. 

He’s still inside him and Derek’s cock gives an interested stir at the thought of waking him up, impaled on it.

Stiles looks up from his chest and smiles at him sleepily, rocking his hips again.

Derek smiles back and for the first time since he watched his families house go up in flames in front of his eyes, he feels like he’s home.

—————————

When Sheriff Stillinski walks slowly past Stiles’ bedroom the next day, he stops outside it and frowns, looking in.

Stiles has hold of one elbow helping him and Scott has the other. 

Derek is bringing his bag up the stairs. 

Stiles and Derek look at each other nervously behind Scott and his Dads’ back. Stiles knows he hasn’t left a trace of what happened last night. He’d even made the bed. They both decided to let his Dad recover before telling him.

He’s tidied everything, cleaned everything. Yet the Sheriff still lingers, eyes dancing over Stiles’ room. 

Finally, apparently satisfied, the Sheriff allows them to help him to his room.

When he’s settled, Scott goes into Stiles’ room to wait for him.

Stiles is just shutting his Dad’s door when he turns around and Scott is standing right behind him. Stiles yelps and jumps. 

Scott’s face is as pale as paper.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Stiles panics. 

“I have to go home,” Scott says, looking very unwell.

“What’s wrong? Oh my god, Scott, you’re scaring me,” Stiles says grabbing him by the shoulders, whispering so as not to disturb his father.

Scott looks like he’s going to cry. Even Derek pokes his head out of his room, frowning.

“What’s wrong with him?” He calls quietly down the hall.

Scott’s face changes from sickly to angry when he sees Derek.

“What’s wrong with me? You’re whats wrong with me wolf breath! I have one best friend...one. And now I have to go home because I just laid down on his bed, you didn’t warn me and now I’m covered in your jizz,” Scott bites out, venomously.

Stiles bursts out laughing, forgetting to be quiet.

“What’s so funny?” his Dad shouts.

“Mr. Stillinski do you have any wet wipes in there?” Scott sounds like he did when they were little and he used to ask for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Stiles is doubled laughing and Scott is only getting more and more irate. 

Even Derek’s smiling from the sanctuary of his door way, hand over his mouth.

“No. I think Stiles might have some in his room?” his Dad calls back.

“Well I’m definitely not going back in there,” Scott sneers at Stiles.

Stiles holds his hands up when Scott growls at him. 

Scott composes himself, rubbing his hands against his jeans absently as if trying to clean them off. 

“Bye Mr Stillinski.” He calls glumly.

“Bye Scott! Thanks for coming,” Stiles’ Dad calls.

Scott looks at Stiles.

Stiles looks at Scott.

“Do not even say it...” Scott growls, eyes flashing red.

Stiles bursts out laughing again.

It’s good to be back.

——————————

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading this and feel free to check out my other teen wolf fic if so! Please give me a holler if I’ve missed any tags. The title is from “Hell or High Water” Billy Raffoul. Beauty of a song.


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